


Your Spirit's Still Delight

by havocthecat



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode Re-Write, Episode Related, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-26
Updated: 2010-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havocthecat/pseuds/havocthecat





	Your Spirit's Still Delight

Christine walked toward Spock's quarters, a black bag of medical equipment clutched in one sweaty palm. For all of humanity's medical advances, how was it that they sill used a black leather bag to carry around their equipment?

Oh, that was right. Christine worked under the most cantankerous, crotchety, _fussy_ doctor on Starfleet's medical roster. The fact that he was also their most brilliant doctor was why Christine had refused every offer of transfer that Starfleet HQ had sent her. Her work on the Enterprise gave her the chance to work with, learn from, and teach Starfleet's best. Hell, she _was_ one of Starfleet's best.

Most of the time, the Enterprise's personnel worked together like a single unit, coming together for the purpose of scientific discovery. However, when the first officer and science officer threatened to snap the chief medical officer's neck - and Leonard had been particularly mild, without any of his usual caustic remarks - something had thrown a rather large hydrospanner in the works of the ship's operations.

That was why Christine had volunteered to give Spock his physical in the privacy of his quarters. If there was any way to convince him to confide in her, she could help him. She knew that she could, if only she could speak with him alone. The glint in his eye when he thought she wasn't looking in sick bay--

Well, Christine thought that, all Vulcan logic aside, that look held a promise that Spock would not - could not, for some reason - speak aloud.

Leonard stood outside Spock's quarters, with Captain Kirk standing next to him. She had insisted that she didn't need an independent observer, but both of her senior officers, not to mention Starfleet procedure, had overruled her.

Leonard nodded once, and Christine took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked into Spock's quarters. He was pacing. It was unusual for a man so calm and dispassionate to look restless. He was full of a fury that was only just leashed by his iron self-control. Christine swallowed her nerves. She had a medical duty to this man, and, by God, she was going to do it, no matter what.

"It's time for your physical, Spock." Christine didn't summon a smile. Vulcans didn't need to be put at ease by their medical personnel in the same way that Humans and most other species did. She set her exam bag down on the dresser.

"What is this?" Mr. Spock's voice was sharp, nothing she ever expected to hear from a Vulcan.

"Your physical," repeated Chris. She undid the catch on her bag. "The one you tried to threaten your way out of."

"Stop prying!" yelled Spock. With three quick steps and one smooth reach, he snatched up her satchel and hurled it past her head. It missed Christine by a millimeter, as carefully calculated as anything Spock ever did while rational.

He watched her for a reaction. Christine raised her chin and closed her hands into fists, the better to disguise the way they were shaking. No emotional reaction, not even the barest show of nerves, would be appropriate, and he would lose all respect for her abilities as a nurse. "Who says I'm prying?" she asked, her voice cool.

"If I want anything from you, I'll ask for it!" shouted Spock. His eyes were full of rage. He stalked toward her.

Christine couldn't control her emotional reaction. Her eyes widened and she took a quick, shaky breath that didn't do much to steady herself. Time to go. She pivoted on her heel, turning her back to Spock on purpose.

Even with his irrational behavior, she trusted that he wouldn't hurt her.

When she reached the door, Christine paused in the open doorway, then whirled back to face Spock. "Try that again, and I'll call security to drag you gown to sickbay in restraints," she said. Her voice barely wavered. "See how you like your physical that way."

She stepped backward and let the door close. Jim Kirk had a speculative, worried look. Leonard tried to say something to her, but she cut him off with a short, sharp shake of her head. Christine gathered her instruments, shoved them back in her bag, and walked back to sickbay without looking back.

***

After Christine's shift, and a full night of sleep, she went over to the mess. She and Nyota had a standing lunch date. "Put the work away, Nyota," said Christine, smiling as she sat down.

"Who says I was working?" Nyota set her PADD down and grinned. "Along with Starfleet's latest orders, I got a download of novels and leisure communications."

"You copied the download before passing it on to Harb Tanzer in Rec, didn't you?" asked Christine. She spread her napkin in her lap and started spooning up her soup.

"As head of communications, I think it's my duty," said Nyota. She took another bite of her lunch, which looked to be some kind of spiced meat, maybe lamb, over lentils. Her expression was innocent, but the look in her eyes was devilish.

"So, as head of communications, I think it's your duty to tell me the latest news from the bridge," said Christine. She smiled. "I've been hearing things down in sickbay."

"We're on course for Vulcan for what must be the fifth time in two days," said Nyota, leaning forward on her elbows. "I don't know what's happening with Mr. Spock, but it's wreaked havoc on our schedule. Starfleet is having fits."

Christine shook her head. "I wish I could say more, but I"m afraid I can't." Medical ethics had come light years - literally - since Earth had joined the interstellar community, but they'd discovered that doctor-patient confidentiality was near universal in application.

"It's fine," said Nyota, waving it off. She had, more likely than not, heard about Christine's aborted visit to give Spock a physical in the privacy of his quarters. Nyota heard everything, but she kept most of it to herself. She paused and studied Christine. "Maybe you should go and check on him. He looked a bit disoriented on the bridge."

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Christine narrowed her eyes at Nyota, who only smirked at her.

"Chris, honey, I _know_ I'm clever," said Nyota. She wiggled her fingers as Christine stood.

"As it so happens, I don't have much of an appetite today anyway," she said, shaking her head as Nyota laughed at her. "Come over to my quarters after your shift and tell me everything."

"Only if you tell me all about those long sojourns you've had in the engine room with Mr. Scott when you've been 'upgrading the comm circuit capacity,'" said Christine. She grinned, unable to stay in a bad mood.

"You've got yourself a deal," said Nyota. "Now, shoo. Get out of here so I can read in peace."

***

Christine paged Leonard on the comms and got official sanction for her plan. As head nurse, she had clearance to enter crew quarters on a medical override. With Spock's irrational behavior, she wanted it clear she was following all procedures to the letter.

Her first step into Spock's quarters made her lose her balance. She didn't notice it every time, but, after the last visit, Christine was hyper-aware of the way the heavier gravity dragged on her, and the dry air that blasted at her like a kiln.

The weapons adorning the walls were odd for a man from a race of avowed pacifists. From what little Christine knew of weapon-making, these were works of art. They were compelling, even elegant in their potential for violence.

Not as compelling as Spock. He lay on his side, curled around on himself. Christine's face was tender, and she reached out with one hand. He radiated sadness. Something was wrong. She would have thought he would die before he reached this point.

"Nurse Chapel?" Spock's voice was soft. It stopped her in a way no amount of anger could.

"Yes, Spock?" She brought her hand back to her side.

"I had a most startling dream. You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear you." He sat up and fixed her with an intense stare. "It would be illogical for us to protest our natures, don't you think?"

Something in Spock's voice, in his eyes, left Christine stripped bare. This was nothing she'd ever expected from him. It was nothing she'd ever thought she _could_ expect. "I don't understand."

Spock's fingertips were gentle and so very, very tender as they brushed across her cheek. "Neither do I."

Christine took a deep, shaky breath. Vulcans were touch telepaths. If her emotions were roiling, too jumbled for her to make sense of, how confusing must they be for Spock in this condition? "I came to tell you that we are bound for Vulcan. We'll be there in just a few days."

"Vulcan." There was no inflection, no interrogative. Spock had the air of a man who had accepted his fate.

There was nothing she could do, not now. She would give him the grace of privacy, both personally and medically. Christine turned to leave.

"Nurse Chapel." There as a note of - hope, perhaps - in Spock's voice.

The door was open. Christine paused, resting her hand on the door sill. "My name is Christine."

Maybe it was silly, but she wanted to give him implicit permission to use her name. Maybe Vulcans didn't do that sort of thing. She'd have to ask Nyota. But it seemed to Christine that, at this time and in this place, it was fitting that she do this.

"Yes, I know. Christine. Would you please get your tricorder and begin my exam?" Spock was calm, not resigned. Not quite himself, but more like it than anything she'd seen in the past few days.

It kindled a spark of joy deep within Christine, one she couldn't keep inside herself. "Oh, I'd be very glad to do that, Spock."

She kept her face turned away, so Spock didn't see her brilliant smile. He wasn't the only one who had new-found hope.

***

When Christine heard they were in orbit over Vulcan, she found a reason to go to the bridge. It wasn't a very good reason, per se, but so long as Leonard didn't ask too many questions, no one else would either.

The first thing she saw when the turbolift doors opened was the most beautiful woman she'd ever encountered. Uhura shot Christine an unreadable look, maybe warning her off, but Christine was determined.

"Spock, it is I." The woman's voice was melodious. Was there anything about her that wasn't perfect?

"T'Pring. Parted from me and never parted." Spock was grave. Severe. The strain of remaining in control was evident. "Never and always touching and touched. We meet at the appointed place."

The appointed place? They'd come to Vulcan so Spock could meet someone? So he could meet this beautiful woman that he was speaking to with romantic language that was unlike anything she could have expected from a Vulcan?

"Spock. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."

There was a cool reserve to T'Pring's expression. She was every inch the perfect Vulcan. There was no emotion to her, but the anticipation from T'Pring was palpable enough to reach them even from Vulcan's surface in the instant before the view screen went blank.

"She's lovely, Mr. Spock," said Uhura, shooting a look at Christine that said _you owe me one for asking this_. "Who is she?"

There was a profound sense of discomfort in Spock, though he didn't move a muscle. "She is--" He took a moment to keep himself composed. "My wife."

Christine didn't have a good reason for the surge of anger she felt. On the other hand, as a Human, she didn't need a good reason.

***

During her shift, Christine kept herself busy in sickbay while Leonard and the Captain beamed down to Vulcan with Spock. Before three hours had passed, she and the rest of the staff had sickbay de-cluttered, re-organized, and sanitized to within an inch of its life. After that, she sat down with two computers and the duty rosters, and started the next week's schedule, and then the schedule for the week after that.

Just for good measure, Christine decided to work on the next month and a half's worth of scheduling as well.

When Geoffrey M'Benga's shift ended, Leonard was supposed to be on duty. Instead of indulging her curiosity and asking Nyota to radio down to Vulcan, like she was dying to, Christine called Helen Noel to take over his shift.

The shift was quiet, just a few minor burns and a scrape from crawling through a Jeffries tube with a jagged panel no one had welded properly, so Christine tried to look preoccupied with adding to the patient files. It didn't fool Helen.

"What's going on?" asked Helen, leaning back against one of the exam tables, her arms folded across her stomach.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Christine, saving Lieutenant Riley's medical file and pulling open a report to send to Mr. Scott in order to keep him apprised of the injuries sustained by members of his department in the line of duty. Her face was bland and businesslike.

"I'm not fooled, Christine," said Helen. Sometimes it was regrettable that Helen was both a friend and a psychotherapist. "What's happening to make you focus more intently than usual on your work?"

"Am I really that predictable?" asked Christine, trying to smile as she set aside one of her computers.

"It's all there in your personnel file," said Helen, walking over and tapping the computer that Christine had just shut down. "Which I've been reviewing at Starfleet's request."

Christine frowned. "You've what?"

"Oh, don't look so worried," said Helen, smiling. She was very charming when she tried to be, which Christine had learned long ago only disguised a brilliant, focused mind. She thought of this as Helen's 'moving in for the kill' expression. "It's only that Starfleet Medical is looking for more qualified physicians to expand the fleet, and since you're more than halfway to earning your MD--"

"That was a long time ago, Helen," said Christine, leaning forward, her elbows on the table and her hands clasped together. The idea was appealing, but she'd changed so very much since the day she'd decided to join Starfleet and find Roger. "Before everything that happened on the Enterprise."

"Still, you'd make an excellent candidate for a staff physician," said Helen. She sat down across from Christine. "You could be CMO on any ship in the fleet within five years."

"Except the Enterprise," said Christine. She glanced around sickbay. "This is Leonard's ship."

"Until someone decides he's more valuable at Starfleet Medical," said Helen. She shrugged, a swift, delicate move. "It's coming. He's too brilliant at research to be out in the field forever."

"But he loves the Enterprise," said Christine, frowning at Helen.

"It doesn't matter. Leonard's career is his own business," said Helen. This time, she used her reassuring smile. "You're an amazing head nurse, Christine, but you let life sidetrack you once. Don't let anything sidetrack you from having the career you want."

Christine smiled in a very non-committal fashion. "I'll consider it," she said. The conversation ended there, because Leonard showed up for his shift in a rather dramatic fashion, bearing a wounded and temporarily paralyzed Jim Kirk. Helen fled, while Christine set off to get disinfectant for Kirk's chest wound. Leonard set about preparing the antidote in the main exam room.

Treating the Captain's wound was simpler like this. Maybe she should recommend sedating all difficult patients. Christine's mouth turned up into a smile. It would make an amusing joke, at least. The scandalized look on Leonard's face would be priceless.

She and Leonard went into the main room of sickbay to give the Captain time and privacy in which to recover from the neural paralytic. As they were waiting, Spock walked in, his self-control restored. Every hair was in place as he walked up to Leonard, and his face was settled into its usual calm composure.

"Doctor, I shall be resigning my commission immediately," said Spock.

Christine shot Leonard a confused look. What the hell had happened on Vulcan?

"Uh, Spock--" started Leonard.

"So I would appreciate your making the final arrangements," continued Spock, as if he hadn't heard Leonard.

"Spock, I--" tried Leonard.

Sometimes, Christine wondered how they worked together so well. The constant clash of personalities energized them more often than not, but, today, Spock looked enervated. Someone who wasn't familiar with his medical history and who hadn't been observing him since coming on board would probably miss it. Christine didn't, and she knew Leonard hadn't either.

"Doctor, please, let me finish. There can be no excuse for my crime. I intend to offer no defense. I shall order Mr. Scott to take command." Spock held himself ramrod straight, ignoring Christine's shocked look. He thought he'd killed Kirk? What could Spock have done to believe he'd committed an unconscionable crime?

"Don't you think you'd better check with me first?" asked the captain, striding into the room with a smug grin, as if he hadn't recovered from the neural paralytic not five minutes ago.

Spock's reaction was, well, there was no other word for it. Emotional. He looked astonished as he reached to grab Kirk's arms. He smiled. It was only for a moment, but his face glowed. It took a visible effort for Spock to collect himself.

"I'm pleased to see you, Captain. You seem uninjured." There was a pause that Christine could have sworn was for dramatic effect. "I am at something of a loss to understand it, however."

Christine shot another alarmed glance at Leonard. Given the amount of dermal regeneration she'd done, the story of what happened on Vulcan was getting more and more interesting. She was going to have to corner Leonard later to get the full story.

"Blame McCoy. That was no triox compound he shot me with." Kirk sounded almost cheerful about all of this. He was irrepressible after a good brawl. "He slipped in a neuroparalyzer. Knocked me out; simulated death."

Who the hell just 'happened' to carry neuroparalyzer on a peaceful away mission to meet Spock's wife?

"Indeed," was Spock's only response.

Leonard turned to Christine. "Nurse, would you mind, please?"

Christine fought the urge to roll her eyes. Half the ship sometimes forgot she had a name, including her boss. Maybe if she listened to Helen and got her MD., they would take her more seriously. God knows, not all of the doctors on this ship were of the opinion that nurses had brains, though Leonard had yelled at enough of them that they kept it to themselves.

Even Leonard sometimes forgot that, while she was his subordinate, she was also Spock's friend and concerned for him. Still, she could be gracious, and step aside to give them their moment.

"Of course," said Christine.

"I beg your pardon, Captain, Doctor," said Spock. His gaze caught Christine's and held it. "I must speak with Christine privately."

"_Christine_ is it?" asked Kirk, giving her a once-over. She'd heard about those from Janice Rand. "Not Nurse Chapel?"

Christine tore her eyes from Spock long enough to give him a scathing look.

"Well, well, well," drawled Leonard, rocking back on his heels. "Chris_tine_, have you got Spock's green blood aroused?"

"Gentlemen," said Spock, in a voice meant to quell the teasing. "If you please."

"Right," said Kirk, still amused.

Christine nudged Leonard, a little less gently than she might have on a normal day. In fact, it was more of a kick. She was going to pay in teasing for that later, but it was worth it to get him out of here _now_.

"Well, Jim, shall we go see what they've cooked up in the mess today?" asked Leonard.

Both of them were too smug for their own good. But at least they left. Christine knew they weren't going to the mess. They were probably going to try to get Nyota to tap into the comm systems to spy on them. There were benefits to being close with the ship's comm officer, however.

An instant after the doors closed behind them, Spock turned to Christine. "I am free to declare my intentions," he said. "T'Pring and I no longer lay claim to each other."

Christine's knees almost gave out, but Starfleet officers were made of sterner stuff than that. She lifted her chin and gave Spock her most imperious look. "What, exactly, are your intentions?"

He stepped forward until he was a hairsbreadth from Christine. Her breath caught. "Your composure in the face of all that we have encountered is what first caught my attention. Since that day, I have grown to respect your strength, your intellect, and your humanity."

They weren't words of love, but Christine had known not to expect that. What Spock had given her instead was a treasure of its own.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" she asked.

"It would have dishonored T'Pring. She and I had been promised to one another for many years," said Spock, his voice grave. "I would also have dishonored you. I could do neither in good conscience."

She looked down and away from him. Helen's words about her future had resonated with her. "Then I cannot promise myself to you in good conscience either."

"Christine?" Spock's hand cupped her chin, and she let him draw her gaze up to meet his eyes. "Is there someone more suited to you? If my intentions are displeasing to you--"

"Oh, no, Spock, it's not that at all," said Christine, breaking in. She knew she sounded too earnest, too emotional, but she couldn't help herself. This was too important to her, and she believed that Spock understood Human emotions better than he would ever let on. "I can't think of anyone more suited to me.

"Then, please. Tell me." His voice was gentle. His hand fell from her chin and settled on her shoulder.

"I've begun the process to go back to Starfleet Academy. I'm going back to complete my MD." Christine clasped her hands in front of her. "I love my career with Starfleet, but I can't keep going on the path I've been on. There's no growth for me professionally, not from head nurse."

There was a moment of silence when Christine stared at Spock, willing him to understand. Emotionally _and_ logically, it made sense to her. It had to make sense to him too.

"If you are willing," said Spock, his voice grave. He paused again. "If you consent, I will wait until you finish your education and return. I have waited this long, and it is logical for you to complete your education in this. I simply must accept that I have to wait."

Christine smiled. No matter how solemn Spock looked, she could see there was a hesitance there, as if fear lay buried within him. "When I return, Spock, then we can promise ourselves to each other, and we will _both_ be free to do so."

Spock leaned down. His lips brushed hers in the briefest of touches, and his hand tightened on her shoulder before dropping away. Christine's eyes fluttered closed.

It was both a promise and a beginning.

\--end--


End file.
